


Red War Blues

by KaidaShade



Series: Setting Sights [10]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Cuddling, Exo Anatomy (Destiny), Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Major Character Injury, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Red War, Robot Sex, Semi-Public Sex, When Will Banshee's Husband Return From The War, robot gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:35:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23550016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaidaShade/pseuds/KaidaShade
Summary: Bungie never told us what happened to Banshee during Red War so now I get to make up whatever I want.The Cabal attack on the City tore his world apart.  Injured, far from home and with no idea whether the love of his life is dead or alive, Banshee is left feeling helpless in the face of something far larger and more powerful than him.  With the Light gone and so many dead, the survivors face a task that seems utterly impossible.
Relationships: Banshee-44/Cayde-6 (Destiny), Cayde-6/Ikora Rey/Zavala
Series: Setting Sights [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1637296
Comments: 11
Kudos: 56





	Red War Blues

**Author's Note:**

> Another one that got really big! There's probably canon about this somewhere but I couldn't find it so I reject whatever reality Bungie was working with and substitute my own.
> 
> Special thanks to my clanmates for allowing me to reference their Guardians in this, it's fun trying to sneak them all in there. Seems appropriate, since we named the clan after Cayde.

Banshee had forgotten so many things, but he knew that the sight of a missile ploughing into the Tower control room would be burned into his mind forever.

It had been such a normal day, aside from the darkened sky and the storm rolling in that had sent the Tower’s civilian’s scurrying into cover from the sudden heavy rain. Banshee had paused in putting the final touches on someone’s repairs, a polishing cloth in hand, and squinted up at the control room as lightning flashed, wondering if maybe he would spot Cayde through the wide windows. His lover had cut their conversation short when Ikora had called him in, grumbling and waving off a ‘stay safe’ with assurance that it was probably nothing, a glitch in their systems. Movement caught Banshee’s eye and his hands stilled as something large and blocky and red loomed out of the clouds, spewing black smoke. Others around him paused, stopped to stare and point. 

And then all Hell had broken loose.

He remembered flashes. More explosions, the Tower on fire, running with a gun in his hands and shouting for others to follow him, skidding to a halt as a massive, flaming black orb crashed down in front of them, dissolved. Monsters in red hurling themselves towards him, one falling under bullets as he scrambled backwards away from them, a woman’s scream as they returned fire. Searing pain, rapidly shoved aside, as a shot clipped his shoulder. A roar and crackle of Arc as a Titan leapt into the fray and decimated them, corralling them and giving the civilians a chance to run. No, him too. He was a civilian despite what his programming screamed at him. He ran.

He hit a dead end, along with a dozen others. A closed door. Another pod dropped nearby, showering them in rubble and shrapnel. Someone was shouting, jabbing at the keypad. Someone else was armed and he felt a moment of unity with them, planting themselves in front of the helpless. It would be a last stand if that door didn’t open.

An awful, grinding shriek, followed by a cheer. Banshee felt his vents catch, looked back to see a familiar horned helm. “Come on!” Shaxx bellowed, holding the door open with straining arms as the civilians dashed through, and he didn’t remember ever being so happy to see the hulking Titan. Banshee dove through and Shaxx let go, the door slamming shut with a clang as something exploded on the other side of it. “Downstairs! Go! They’re evacuating!”   
“The Vanguard?” He didn’t have time. He had to know.   
“Fine, last I heard. Go!”

He went. He wasn’t sure where he was going. Down. Out. Away. Another explosion rocked the Tower and he grabbed the stair rail for balance, caught the hand of a young man who nearly went tumbling and kept him on his feet. The fear in his eyes was familiar. Just a civilian. All of them. He let the rest of them go first, just in case. He was an Exo. Exos weren’t civilians, they were soldiers, he was…

He was panicking. He was also alone. The others had gotten ahead of him, he must have zoned out for a moment. He’d dropped his gun and he stooped to pick it up, and it was only later that he realised how lucky he was because that was when the world exploded in bright, sharp pieces just above his head and hurled him into the opposite wall of the stairwell. He didn’t have time to feel pain before he blacked out.

“Banshee? Banshee! Come on, up!” The voice was familiar. 

“Shaxx?” Was that his voice? That awful, glitching, distorted mess?

“Thank the Traveller, you’re alive. Let’s get you out of here, can you walk?” Big hands lifted him like he weighed nothing and set him on his feet. He almost didn’t dare look down, but caught a glimpse of his arm hanging at a deeply unnatural angle and promptly closed his eyes. No. Don’t look and it’s not happening, don’t think about what the sparks and dripping hydraulic fluid mean, don’t acknowledge the strange pixelated colours dancing across the world.

“I’m fine.” He wasn’t, but he  _ could _ walk. He had to. 

"Good. Hopefully there's a transport I can put you on. The City is lost. The Light… something happened. We're getting out who we can."

The Light… someone important, what was his- Cayde. Where was Cayde? He couldn't coordinate his thoughts enough to ask as Shaxx helped him down the remains of the stairs. He was pretty sure he blacked out again, because the next thing he remembered was lying on his back on a surface that rumbled and shook, a strange rattling coming from somewhere in his body and something cold lying heavy on his chest and tucked around his side under him. Exactly what he would have done for a wounded Exo, he thought dimly. Someone here knew their stuff. He said as much, and a slightly confused voice told him that he had just instructed them on what to do. Huh. Not remembering that probably wasn't good.

He lost a lot of time after that, but he didn't know how much. He slept, or shut down, he wasn't sure, but when he came to he was lying on his side on a hard surface while someone gently manipulated his arm, flexing the joints through their full range. He hissed static and tried to yank the limb out of their grip, startled them into dropping it and letting him sit up. It hurt, and he regretted it, had to close his eyes until his vocaliser stopped making distressed clicking noises and the pain subsided.

"Hey, Banshee, it's okay. It's me, Amanda. Just fixin' you up. Thought you were out." 

"Amanda…" shit. He knew that name but why, who… "Holliday?"

"Yeah. Lay back down. Ya look like Hell and that sounded like it hurt." 

He did, because it did hurt and he knew Amanda. Shipwright, but probably the closest they had to an Exo mechanic right now. He cracked open an eye and looked over at her as she approached him again and took his arm- he had to look away abruptly when he saw how much of the plating was missing, but briefly took in the scrape across her cheek and the state of her hair and clothes. Their surroundings were unfamiliar, sunlight streaming through a dilapidated wooden roof and quiet clucking sounds coming from somewhere outside, just audible over the clinking of Amanda's tools.

"Where are we? And what'd I miss? What  _ happened _ ?" 

"You've been offline for a couple of days. We were getting worried, to be honest, but that fan was still going and the lights were still on so we figured you were alive at least. They call it the Farm, little refuge out in the EDZ. Bunch of us evacuated here. Far as we can tell it's Cabal, faction called the Red Legion; they hit the City hard and did something to the Traveller that fucked the Guardians up pretty bad." 

Banshee felt something clench in his chest, a fan rattling a little as it spun up. He tried to keep himself calm, think about something else. Something that wasn't a particular Guardian who, notably, wasn't here.

"Mm. Hard to kill an Exo if you don't take us out outright. How many made it out?" 

"We have no idea. Everyone's scattered. The Guardians are freaking out because their Light is gone and they don't have their powers. A lotta them died in the attack- permanently. Lotta regular people too. No idea where the Speaker or the Vanguard are and not much contact with other groups. Won't lie, it's not lookin' great right now, but at least we've got a roof over our heads and supplies to treat the injured." She sighed, ran her hand up to his shoulder to check some connections. "Honestly it's kinda nice havin' you to work on. We don't have enough to fix ships, but at least I can do somethin'."

"You're welcome?"

She laughed, though there wasn't much humour in it. "Sorry. Probably came out weird."

"Little bit, yeah. But… thanks. Ain't many people who know their way around Exos."

"I'm more used to frames, but far as I can tell the principle ain't too different long as I don't go poking around in your processors. Which I won't." 

Banshee nodded and settled back down, let Amanda move him where she needed and tried not to think. It didn't work too well, not when there was so much to take in. Dead Guardians, the City taken, Cayde missing. Cayde could be… no. If anyone could survive it was his swift, clever boyfriend. His reckless boyfriend, who might not have realised he was mortal until it was too late… No. Stop that.

"Hey, Banshee? I can hear ya thinkin'. Your fans start going when you fret."

"Sorry." 

"Nah, don't be. Just… if you wanna talk. We're all going through some shit right now."

"Mm. Exactly. Feels selfish to be worrying about one person when there's so many missing."

"Cayde?"

He looked over, squinting at her. More plating back on his arm now, so it didn't bother him. "How'd you know?"

"Coz he never shuts up about you? He thinks he's being subtle, but he's not. Nobody talks about people they're just friends with like that."

"Huh."

"Can't promise he's still alive but… yeah. Reckon there's a pretty good chance of it. Like you said, hard to kill an Exo. And if he is, he'll find his way back to you. He's a Hunter, tracking things down is what he does."

"That kinda helps." Only a little, but the tense knot in his insides seemed to ease a little and he was distracted by her turning the dormant receptors in his arm back on and flooding it with weird pins and needles. "Thanks, Amanda. For that and the rest of this. Anything you need after this, you got me." 

She patted his arm with a faint smile. "Helps me too. Lets me feel useful. You're done for now, let me know if anything still feels wrong."

He pushed himself up again, wincing a bit. "Tender. It will be though, 'til it integrates. Much better. And hey, you're alive, that's useful." He wasn't the best at being comforting, but he reached up to pat her shoulder with a heavy metal hand and, to his surprise, she held it for a moment and gave it a little squeeze like she appreciated it before she got self-conscious and let go. They didn't know each other that well after all, though right then it didn't seem to matter much. She'd been rummaging around in his innards, how much more intimate did you need to be?

"You wanna come see the place?" She offered, ducking down to scoop a spare shirt from somewhere and handing it to him. He was a little stiff pulling it on, but managed. 

"Sure." 

With Amanda's help he hobbled out of what he now saw was an old barn that seemed to have been converted into a hangar of sorts, if the battered jumpship they passed on the way out was any indication. There were others recuperating from injuries in its shadow and scattered around the barn, including on the mezzanine level that ran around the walls above. The sunshine was blinding and a strange contrast to the storm he remembered from the City, but it warmed him and made him feel a little better. The Farm thrummed with life, people hurrying back and forth and scattering the chickens that pecked and scratched in the central yard. A few armed frames patrolled the perimeter, glimpsed through buildings, and several temporary structures were being hastily built with the help of a group of Guardians who seemed to have escaped harm. Mostly Titans, though a few Hunters perched on precarious scaffolding to guide and assist and he spotted a couple of Warlocks apparently arguing over a satellite dish. He didn't see anyone he recognised, though he knew that didn't mean he didn't know them.

He jumped as Shaxx's voice bellowed from somewhere to his left and he looked over to see the Crucible handler… well, handling, two Guardians. He'd picked up a Hunter and a Warlock by their scruffs and was holding them at arm's length away from each other while they struggled to get to one another. The Hunter had a knife in hand, glinting in the sun, and Shaxx shook her until she dropped it. "Enough! Even I know we can't afford to fight each other at a time like this! You should be ashamed!"

Half the Farm had stopped to watch by this point, and the pair's excuses were shouted over until they fell silent and looked suitably chastised, then Shaxx set them down and allowed them to slink away in opposite directions. Banshee watched him shake his head and sag a little once most of the attention was off him, then made his way over.

"Hey. Think I owe you my life" he said by way of greeting and Shaxx perked up when he spotted him.

"It's good to see you on your feet." He said, reaching out to clasp his hand. Banshee could see him hold back his strength at the last second, and he appreciated it. 

"Put yourself in charge?" He asked, nodding towards the Warlock's escape route. Shaxx laughed.

"Goodness, no. Those days are long gone, Suraya is the leader here and she's doing a magnificent job." He looked up to a platform on the side of the barn, where a woman in a poncho kept watch on the far entrance to the Farm with a long sniper rifle held at ease in her hands. A falcon swept over their heads and up to perch on her arm, and she gave it a gentle scratch behind the head before returning to her watch.

“Think she’ll have a job for me?”   
“Most likely, but you needn’t worry. I’ve put Arcite on duty keeping people supplied with what weapons we have. You’re free to rest, and I suspect you still need it.”

“You think a frame can do my job?” He raised a brow ridge at Shaxx, folding his arms, and it made him feel a little better to see the massive Guardian freeze like a deer in headlights.

“Well… no, of course not, he’s not  _ building  _ anything and his knowledge of guns is somewhat limited, he’s mostly just handing out what people  _ ask  _ for, but when you do it  _ you  _ tell people what they need.” Shaxx fumbled, and Banshee shook his head with a soft chuckle.

“Damn right. Guess you’re off the hook, Shaxx. But… you’re probably right. What about you, did you get hurt at all?”   
“Of course not. Even without my Light, I’m formidable.” Shaxx planted his hands on his hips and puffed his chest out proudly, and Banshee wondered whether he was hiding a wince under that helmet. There were certainly a few burned and dented areas on his armour.

“Dunno why I ever doubted you.” 

“Quite. Go and rest, I’ll let Suraya know you’re conscious again when I speak with her next.”

Shaxx was a hard man to disobey at the best of times, and Banshee was feeling every one of his centuries in a way he didn’t remember having ever felt before. He let Amanda help him back into the barn where he could settle into a corner out of the way. He couldn’t do much, but Amanda sent Shaxx’s assistant frame his way with a few damaged weapons he could work on. It wasn’t much, but it helped him not feel useless. 

A couple of weeks passed. Guardians and civilians trickled into the Farm, either finding their way on their own or with the scouts Suraya sent out. Some were worse for wear, being carried by comrades or limping in alone with stories of Red Legion warbeasts that had torn their friends apart. None of them had seen or heard from the Vanguard. Some days he woke up and didn't remember where he was, spent an hour laying staring at the barn roof until the awful panic of the attack hit him like a Titan's fist and his mind caught itself up on the situation while he curled up and tried not to make a sound, shaking from the shock of it. More than once he rolled over expecting Cayde to be there, only for the space beside him to be cold and empty. The barn was crowded, but he'd never felt quite so lonely.

It took a few more sessions with Amanda before Banshee felt fully restored from his injuries, but she was pleasant to talk shop with even if their fields didn’t cross over exactly. They came out of it with some ideas for weaponised Sparrows, but didn’t have the time or resources to build prototypes. Shaxx caught him a few times to discuss plans for anti-aircraft defenses for the Farm, but he had no idea where they'd get the materials for them or the power to run them. Some efforts were being put into wind turbines and he turned his hand to that instead once he could manage climbing the scaffolding.

He was woken one morning by Suraya shouting, and his hand was on the rifle he’d taken to sleeping with before he realised that they weren’t under attack. He sat up, watched her storm down from her perch, muttering furiously to her bird before throwing a hand up in frustration. 

“Something I can help with?”   
“Fuck! Oh, just you. Nah, unless you wanna try and drag an idiot Guardian back from the Dark Forest. She heard ‘Shard of the Traveller’ and decided that might be a way to get her Light back.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Told her not to go, but since when do Guardians ever listen to what us mere mortals think?”

He had to chuckle quietly at that. “Don’t ask me. Only time my opinion matters is when there’s guns involved,” or, sometimes, when Cayde was involved, but he was just as likely to ignore good advice as to heed it.

She snorted. “You’d think they had the monopoly on fighting or something. Never mind that we’re used to only having one life and being careful. I mean, I am. I don’t really know about Exos.”   
“We’re hard to kill, but it can happen.” Banshee shrugged. 

“Yeah? Well, maybe that Guardian’ll be okay, don’t think I’ve ever seen an Exo that big.”

Suraya excused herself, heading off to some other task, and Banshee wandered out onto the platform she’d come from to look out over the forest beyond. The Traveller’s shard loomed ominous and pale on the horizon, though nowhere near as ominous as the dark cloud of smoke in the other direction from the fires that still burned in the City. The wind tugged at his scarf, which had somehow made it out with him albeit battered and charred, and he sent a silent prayer for the Guardian’s safety. If even one of them could get their Light back it might help tip the odds in their favour, and if nothing else they might be able to find the Vanguard… to find Cayde.

He shoved the thought away and went back inside. Hoping was useless. But what else could he do?

He couldn’t believe it when the Guardian strode back into the Farm the next morning, her armour crackling with lightning that seemed to tingle against Banshee’s plating even from halfway across the yard. He knew that feeling from spending time with Cayde, the draw that the Light brought with it, and judging by how every other Guardian in the Farm was looking that way too they could also feel it. 

The Guardian didn't stop for any of them though, just marched straight to Suraya with a curt "I'm taking your ship" and carried on to where the battered old jumpship was parked.

"Hey, wait, where the fuck do you think you're going?" Suraya demanded

"Titan. Commander's there. Gonna get him."

Banshee felt himself freeze, but he was too far away to get involved. “Zavala’s alive?” Suraya squinted at the Guardian skeptically, but she gave a single, firm nod.    
“Mm. Gonna let me go or not?” 

“Do I have a choice?”   
“No.”

“Fine then. Take it. Bring back the Vanguard, Guardian. Since letting you go running off seems to have worked out so well already.” 

She didn’t need telling twice, and the ship rocketed off into the sky minutes later. Banshee found himself squeezing the gun he was holding a little too tightly and loosened his grip, sinking down to sit on a nearby crate. If Zavala was alive, there was a chance that Cayde was with him. He leaned his elbows on his knees and ran a hand over the antennae on his skull, for want of hair to do it with instead. Hope seemed like a dangerous thing, but he couldn’t help but  _ want  _ desperately for it to be true. The Guardians around him were abuzz with what had transpired, a few looking to the Shard themselves with thoughtful expressions. Banshee supposed he could understand; Hell, he was tempted himself. If it could restore a Guardian, could it perhaps grant him the power to go and make himself useful in this war?

That was ridiculous, and he just sighed and looked down at the weapon in his hands. No, he wasn’t Guardian material. That required sacrifice and death at the very least, and he wasn’t quite ready to die just yet. Shaxx’s massive hand on his shoulder made him jump, but it didn’t seem to put him off at all.   
“Chin up, Banshee!” He boomed. “There’s hope yet! Even if it’s just one Guardian!” Shaxx squeezed his shoulder and gave him what he probably thought was a little, encouraging shake but just ended up rattling him around like a child’s toy.   
“Ow.” 

“Oops.”

“Hey! Are you two old men gonna sit around or are you gonna be useful?” Suraya yelled at them, and Banshee hauled himself to his feet. 

“Easy on the old, would ya?” He said, hefting the gun onto his shoulder. He considered for a moment, then headed for the perimeter where he could keep watch from the little field where the Farm’s children played football.

They heard nothing for several days. Banshee’s mind decided to fill in the gaps for him while he slept, filling his dreams with the gigantic Cabal Legionaries he’d faced down in the City, daunting and impossible. He fought them; his dreams were always filled with fighting and he was so  _ tired _ of it, the bullet to his shoulder almost a relief because he could  _ stop  _ as he sank to his knees with the monsters looming above him _. _

The crack and boom of a Golden Gun filled his ears and he turned, saw Cayde wreathed in gleaming fire and gunning down their enemies with all the grace and power of a god made metal. The fire faded and Cayde’s hand was there, hauling him to his feet with a wink and the tilt of his head and flare of mouth light that made up his signature cheeky grin.

“Miss me?” He teased, tugging Banshee in close and for a moment he thought it was over, that he might get a good dream for once. The Legionary came out of nowhere, rose up behind Cayde like Death incarnate, and Banshee wished he didn’t know what a blade plowing through metal and armour sounded like well enough to dream it, wished he couldn’t imagine so vividly the look of shock on Cayde’s face as the tip of the sword emerged from the centre of his chest.

He was helpless, could only listen in wide-eyed horror as Cayde’s vocaliser stuttered and died, the light flickering and fading in his eyes as his body slumped and was flicked aside like a stray fleck of dust on the blade, leaving a smear of red-black hydraulic fluid. He darted sideways, trying to get to him, but the Legionary’s foot kicked out and sent him sprawling, feet away. 

Somehow, even as he tried to reach for Cayde, his mind managed to fill in the crack of a sword forced between his shoulder blades for just a moment before he woke up.

He shot upright and swung, the pressure between his shoulders far too real. His fist connected with something and he opened his eyes to see a huge, armoured monster holding his fist, looming over him. No… no, a man, a man he knew… Shaxx. It was Shaxx. Not looming. Just crouching next to him, a big hand on his back. His fans slowed slightly and he locked his eyes on the helmet until he had calmed down enough to speak. “You… what? Why?”   
“Are you going to try to hit me again? I thought we were past that.” Shaxx said, his voice quieter than Banshee ever remembered hearing.   
“I’m… yeah. You’re Shaxx. We’re at the Farm. I don’t gotta hit you.”    
“I am and we are, well done.” From anyone else it would sound sarcastic, but not from Shaxx, who let go of his hand but kept that soothing palm against his back. “I’ve never heard an Exo scream like that and you’re shaking a lot. Are you alright?”

He realised Shaxx was right; he could hear his plating rattling against itself with his trembling. He looked away from him, caught several other silhouettes sitting up in the moonlit barn and staring at him, and squeezed his eyes shut to try and crush down the welling shame. “Bad dream,” he muttered, just loud enough for Shaxx to hear but nobody else.

“Happens to the best of us.” Shaxx assured him, sympathetic and not at all self-conscious about being looked at. He heard the Titan shift on his knees, then the heavy thunk of him sitting down properly, a living shield to hide behind. He opened his eyes again, staring down at his hands instead of looking at Shaxx.   
“You don’t have to do this.”

“I know. But I suspect you don’t want to be alone with your thoughts after that.”   
  


Shaxx wasn't wrong. Banshee sighed, vents spinning down as he calmed from the dream. Somehow he didn't think he'd forget that one in a hurry. "Thanks. Long as you don't have someone else you'd rather be spending the night with?"

Shaxx chuckled, "I'm spoiled for choice, but no. Not at a time like this."

The massive Guardian scooted back to rest his back against the wall and his chin tilted down to his chest. Banshee couldn't tell if he was just getting comfortable or sleeping like that, didn't know how he could even sleep with his helmet on. He made a good shield from the rest of the barn, made it a little easier to lay back down and close his eyes and try to forget what he had seen. Why was it always the good memories that slipped away, never the ones that hurt him? 

He was woken by a real gunshot in the early hours, flailing his way upright as Shaxx scrambled to his feet beside him, a weapon transmatting straight into his hands as he dashed outside. Banshee followed, scooping a gun from a tabletop as he went and looking up to where Suraya crouched with her sniper rifle aimed into the woods. "Fallen!" She called down. "Got him, but where there's one there'll be more." 

It seemed like every Guardian in the Farm had responded to the sound, hovering near the buildings with weapons at the ready. They weren't alone, civilians just as armed and ready with grim-faced determination. They dispersed at Suraya's command, taking up posts on the roofs of buildings or in high windows where they could watch the perimeter. Banshee found himself flanked by a pair of Exo hunters, one missing half of one leg below the knee but steady with a gun nonetheless. None of them spoke, and the night seemed long as it paled into the dim, grey dawn with no sign of trouble. Perhaps the death of their scout had put the Fallen off. He could only hope.

At least the Red Legion didn't seem interested in their encampment, their eyes focused on the City and movements elsewhere. There were reports of Cabal in the EDZ, attacking refugees escaping the City or even scrapping with the Fallen, but they didn't pursue anyone this far. It didn't stop anyone from looking up in alarm when a ship went over, until someone recognised it and shouted. "That's Zavala's!"

Banshee's plating tingled with excitement and he took off towards the landing zone as the ship came about and touched down, Zavala descending the ramp looking exhausted and battered, the Light that usually shimmered just below the surface of his skin almost extinguished, but alive.

And alone.

It felt selfish to be disappointed. One of three was a good start, especially since Suraya was unwilling to cede control to Zavala entirely and instead caught him quickly to fill him in on the situation with her usual stubborn efficiency, but still it felt like a hollow victory to him. He trailed back off to the makeshift armoury and collared Shaxx's frame - what was its name again? He'd probably remember later- to help him with inventory. No doubt Zavala would want to know their weapons situation later, and he was still the expert here.

Sure enough, the Commander came to him later in the evening, when he'd almost forgotten he was here, and glancing up and seeing him filled him with a rush of hope that immediately deflated when he remembered. "Zavala. Good to see you in one piece. What can I do for you?"

"Likewise, Banshee. Cayde will be relieved to know you made it out."

"He's alive?" Banshee looked up abruptly, searching Zavala's face for clues, but the Awoken was always difficult to read and his features were especially solemn now.

"Last I heard, yes. I sent a Guardian to look for him and Ikora while I finished establishing our foothold on Titan. Hopefully they will join us here soon." 

Zavala must have seen the light dim in his eyes, because he sighed. "I'm sorry I can't tell you more. We lost each other and had to make our own way out after the Legion cut the comms. I saw both of their ships leave the City, but beyond that I have little idea. If there's anything I can do..."

"It's fine. What do you need?" Even that fleeting relief was something, he supposed, but not enough, "give me something to do other than worry, Zavala, that's what you can do for me right now. Then let me help kill the fuckers who did this to us."

It occurred to him a little late that maybe being that familiar with members of the Vanguard other than Cayde was a bit much. Fuck it. After that one time celebrating Cayde's birthday, their relationship would probably never be entirely professional again.

"You're mortal, Banshee. I can't let you-"

"Bullshit. It's my home too. And I'm no more mortal than you, right now. I know how to fight, it's what I was  _ made  _ for and you know it." He stood, and even though he was a good few inches shorter than Zavala he felt like he had at least managed to make him feel a little intimidated. He at least put his hands up as if he thought Banshee might pose a threat to him. 

"You… make a fair point. I'll consider it."

"You don't have enough Guardians to discount the rest of us. Even if they can make it back from where they're stranded." Banshee relaxed a bit, even though nothing had been decided for sure.

"Have you been spending time with Ms Hawthorne? That's exactly what she said."

"She would." He shook his head and gestured to the array of weaponry he'd hoarded in this one room. "Now, I take it you wanna get an idea of what we're working with…?"

He spent some time going through their stocks with Zavala, and the Commander's frown deepened as he took in how limited they were. Guns aplenty; city made, scavenged from various enemies or looted from Golden Age ruins, but the ammunition for them was in worryingly short supply. Shaxx had tried his hand at forging a few swords from scrap metal, but without a power source to augment the blades with a plasma or Light-imbued edge they were never going to be enough to get through Red Legion armour. Zavala left him with orders to melt down anything he could get his hands on for bullets, to pressgang any Guardians who didn't look busy enough into helping him, and he nodded as he set about making plans and writing down everything he needed to remember from their discussion before it slipped his mind. It would certainly keep him occupied for a while.

He still had watch duties though, and after a couple of hard days of forging and smelting and teaching a gaggle of Warlocks how to assemble a Solar battery it was pleasant to sit in the quiet with a gun in his lap and just watch. At least, until a flash of movement caught his attention out in the trees. He brought his gun up instantly, squinting down the scope to try to spot it again. There. Dark fabric among dark trees, but a glint of metal gave it away. The figure cut sideways along the outer fence before emerging from the trees, and Banshee's vents caught as moonlight flashed off a distinctive facial horn.

He stood up sharply and the figure froze, a flash of glowing blue eyes from under the hood as he looked his way confirming his suspicions. Their eyes met across the distance and Banshee slowly lowered the gun, unable to take his eyes off him. What if he looked away and Cayde disappeared? What if this was a dream, and he would fall again as soon as he blinked?

He took the most direct route down as Cayde started towards him, grabbing the edge of the lookout platform and lowering himself by his arms before dropping the last few feet to the ground. His knees creaked in protest as he landed in a crouch, but he didn't care. He all but ran towards him, circuits singing. He was here! Why was he sneaking around? Had he not planned to let him know, to look for him? All the frustration and fear and anger of the last few weeks flared up and what he had originally intended as a passionate embrace resolved instead into a fist that connected with Cayde's face right as they drew level.

The Hunter staggered back, stunned, and  _ then  _ Banshee grabbed him by the shoulders and dragged him into a hug. "Whoa! What was that? Coulda dented my horn!"

"I thought you were dead. Thought I was never gonna see you again and you try sneaking in in the dead of night? The hell are you playing at, Cayde?!" The last part came out in a furious hiss and Cayde leaned back like he thought he was going to get punched again. 

"Okay, okay, I know how it looks, but I'm not flying my ship because it got trashed and I wanted to make sure it was the right place and I wasn't gonna wander into a Fallen camp or something. I'm being sensible!" Cayde held his hands up in surrender, though it was a little awkward because Banshee was still hugging him like he might disappear if he let him go. Banshee loosened his grip slightly, just enough to pull back and look Cayde in the eyes. "I didn't know for sure you were here. I hoped, but…" he added, his expression going pained for a moment and his mouth flickering as his voice went strangely soft, "fuck, I've been so scared, Banshee. Thinking about the odds of you making it……”

Banshee relented, pulling him in close and kissing him hard with a strange, inarticulate noise. Cayde seemed to melt against him, allowing himself just a moment of vulnerability here, when they were alone. He felt him shaking through the cloak and clung to him harder, didn’t comment on it as it slowly subsided. It was a good few minutes before Cayde could gather himself and remove his face from the crook of Banshee’s neck, and his eyes were still flickering slightly even then.   
“I’m here. I’m alive. You’re alive. That’s what matters. And Zavala’s here, and Ikora’s coming. We’re gonna win this.” He said, his voice staticky with the overload of emotion. 

“Fuck. Fuck, I need to talk to Zavala… I can’t just not tell him I’m here, can I? He said he  _ needed  _ me, Banshee.” Cayde sounded stunned by that, the little cracks in his cocky exterior showing through far more than usual.   
“I’m not surprised. You’re part of his fireteam, you oughta have each other’s backs. Guardians don’t stand alone.” Banshee kissed him again, then let him go even though it took all of his will to do so, “Go talk to him. I’m supposed to be on watch, you can come find me when you’re done, okay?” 

“Yeah. Yeah! I’ll do that. It’ll be fine, right?” Cayde’s eyes were very bright in the dark, and Banshee wondered why he looked so worried.

“It’ll be fine. He was worried about you.” Banshee told him, reaching up into Cayde’s hood to touch his face because he just  _ couldn’t stop touching him _ , just in case he did disappear. “Last I saw him he was sleeping in the barn.”   
“Okay. Okay, I got this. I’ll see you later, ‘kay?”   
“Yeah. Go already.” 

He gave him a nudge, waited as Cayde rolled his shoulders and neck and took off at a jog towards the barn before he began the climb back up to the watch post. From there he could keep an eye on the forest while keeping half an ear on the interior, where Zavala’s quiet, surprised rumble hit his ears a moment later, followed by Cayde’s urgent whisper and a soft clunk of metal knees on wood and rustling of fabric that suggested one of them had dragged the other into a hug. Silence reigned for a minute or two, then Banshee heard them both get up and exit the barn, watched as they walked together towards the Farm’s perimeter and out of his earshot, presumably to catch each other up on whatever they’d found out there in the solar system. Banshee tried not to let himself get distracted by them, just kept his eyes on the forest until they headed back inside.

Cayde was a stealthy bastard, and he didn’t even notice him come up and sit beside him, facing into the barn, until he leaned back into his peripheral vision and made him jump. “Some lookout.” He teased.   
“Shut up.” Banshee replied, but it was inordinately fond. Cayde chuckled quietly and, after a moment, leaned his head on Banshee’s shoulder.   
“Mind if I just… sleep here? ‘S been a long… fuck, I dunno how long it’s been.”   
“Go ahead.”

Cayde apparently didn’t need telling twice and cuddled in, his cloak wrapped around him, and Banshee felt him slowly relax over the next few minutes until he was just warm, living weight against him. He heard Zavala’s heavier step from within the barn and glanced over as the Titan sat on Cayde’s other side, his back to the other side of the wall that Banshee himself leaned against. He didn’t say anything, but Banshee spotted his hand move to rest against Cayde’s knee and heard his breathing slowly even out as he too went back to sleep.

Ikora arrived early the next morning, her ship touching down at the landing pad, and watching Cayde nearly fall off the watch post in his haste to go and launch himself at her in a hug was one of the most endearing things Banshee had ever seen, especially when he quite literally lifted her off her feet and spun her around to make her laugh. It was good to see someone laugh in these times, and even Zavala seemed to be smiling as Cayde set her down and bumped his forehead against hers affectionately. The familiar wedge of Suraya's ship landed a little distance away and the Guardian who had gone to retrieve Zavala emerged.

She seemed a little daunted by the sudden attention that she got, bristling defensively at the other Guardians who tried to get close and ask her where she'd been and what had happened, how the Vanguard had been gathered. Banshee ended up feeling sorry for her and opened the armoury door before gesturing to her. She darted inside, as much as someone over two metres tall could dart, and gave him a grateful glance as she pulled off her horned helmet and just vented for a while. Her eyes were a similar blue to his and Cayde's, and he wondered idly if that meant anything about their origins, but otherwise he left her alone while he set up for the day and watched Cayde excitedly tell Ikora where he'd been.

The Vanguard moved away and Suraya drifted off to join them, apparently determined not to be left out of the discussion. Banshee settled in to carry on as normal, repairing the few things that needed repairing and getting started on the eternal job of making new ammunition. Eventually the Guardian slipped out without a word and he spotted her later up a tree near the edge of the Farm, her Ghost hovering in front of her and gesturing with its spiny little segments excitedly. 

Cayde snuck in just as he was finishing up for the day, the golden light of sunset gleaming off his faceplates as he flashed a smile. "Hey."

"Escaping from Zavala and Ikora?"

"Escaping from  _ Hawthorne _ . She's relentless. I don't think I've ever seen anyone other than Ikora tell Big Blue off like that." He chuckled and came over to plant his face against Banshee's shoulder. Banshee put his arm around him almost without hesitation, though it surprised him to find that Cayde seemed to be running at the same temperature as him and there was none of the penetrating warmth that touching him usually came with. Of course, his Light was gone. "I'm so tired. Holy crap."

"Yeah, me too. Think everyone is."

"You got a chance to rest?"

"Maybe. We got a plan but we need someone with Light to pull it off. Zavala's gonna talk to that Guardian, if he can find her. He's got her comm at least. He'll probably try tomorrow, let her get some sleep too."

"Good call."

They'd all been through hell, and Banshee found that now he had him back he didn't want Cayde to go. "I'm officially taking you off duty for tonight. I've missed you." His hand slid down Cayde's back to pat his ass through his cloak, and he glanced up.

"Right here?"

"Not much privacy out here. Least the armoury locks. If you're not too tired?"

"You're a damn blessing, you know that? What if Zavala comes looking for me, huh?"

"He can watch if he wants. He's had you all day, it's my turn."

Cayde snorted, "Not the way I might want him to. You're definitely the fun boyfriend right now. I missed you too."

Cayde kissed him, and it felt so right to kiss him back as he backed up, pulling Cayde with him into the depths of the makeshift armoury where they were less likely to get caught. There was so little privacy on the Farm and he was so lucky to have this sanctum, a place where he could push his lover up against the wall and fist his hands into the front of his cloak and not have to pretend like he didn’t want to ravish him like he deserved. Even without his Light it was wonderful to press close to him, nudge a knee between Cayde’s thighs and feel Cayde’s hands slide around his waist and hold him like he didn’t want to let go.

It wasn’t enough. He tilted his head, nipping at Cayde’s neck, and he felt as much as heard him chuckle as his hands slid down to his ass and pulled him up and closer, where Cayde could grind on his knee with a stutter of vents. “You really did miss me- ah!” He gasped as Banshee bit him harder, pulling his scarf out of the way to get at the delicate plates and cables. He’d gotten really good at undoing armour but he left it for now, hands loosening in the fabric and trailing down over leather to get at Cayde’s belt. Belts. Why did his stupid, gorgeous, brave boyfriend need more than one?! He had plans, and there were belts in the way, and they needed gone before he forgot what he was going to do.

Cayde’s vents were running hot against him, and it was distracting. He gave him a final nip and went for it, dropping to his knees so he could see what he was doing. Cayde stuttered static for a moment before looking down, his eyes bright and his hand going to Banshee’s chin to tilt it up. “You sure?”   
“Wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t.” He tilted his head into his hand, closing his eyes for a moment and stilling just as he managed to get the stupid, pointless belts undone. “Wanna help you relax. You’re tired, let me take care of you?”

Cayde leaned his weight against the wall more heavily and chuckled. “You’re gonna fucking kill me, holy crap. Look at you. Hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.  _ Please _ .”

“Shhh, someone’s gonna hear you.” Banshee leaned into nuzzle at the bulge in Cayde’s pants, hands running over his waist and down to tease the hem of his pants down and free his cock as it unsheathed fully.    
“Going to kill me.” Cayde repeated, sounding a little strained and glitching out as Banshee palmed his cock and ran his thumb along the underside of it, considering the best way to get what he wanted. Blowjobs were hard when you didn’t have lips or a tongue, but some primal, still-human part of him wanted that in his mouth right now.

He reached over to the shelf next to them and grabbed a bottle of oil, uncapping it with his thumb before tipping his head back and pouring it down his throat to a startled sound from Cayde. It didn’t exactly taste good, but the slick sensation coating his mouth and throat sent an eager shiver down his spine and he tipped his head to the side and guided Cayde’s cock through one of the holes in his cheek, slowly feeding it straight down his throat. Cayde made an inarticulate noise that cut off halfway through as he silenced himself, his weight shifting as he had to lock his knees to stay upright.

Banshee didn't remember having done this before, but the sensation was familiar and he knew to swallow at the right point, throat squeezing around Cayde to make him swear and his hips twitch despite his best efforts. He moved, feeling the fine edges of the plates of Cayde’s cock catch and drag against his mouth and his throat as he pulled back, felt Cayde arch to follow him until he put his hand on his hip to hold him back. “Let me do the work.” He said, voice only slightly distorted by the pressure on his vocaliser.   
“Traveller, don’t  _ talk  _ while you’re doing that,  _ fuck _ ,” Cayde whined, hand grabbing at Banshee’s shoulder before he caught himself and planted his palms on the wall.   
“Just Banshee’s fine.” He put as much of a bass growl into his voice as he could and was rewarded with Cayde’s fans kicking up and a high, metallic whine, distorted by overstimulation. He backed off a little, stroking his thumb over the join of Cayde’s hip and waist until he relaxed again.

He swallowed him down again, deeper and faster, the pressure in his throat sending waves of arousal down into his belly. His free hand palmed his cock through his pants, his involuntary moan echoed by Cayde in a delicious feedback loop. Cayde’s hand ended up on his head after all, fingers curling against his skull as he tried to resist the urge to grab, and he pushed into the touch with a soft, hungry sound and a rush of vents. There was an urgency to it, a need that he hadn’t expected to come with this, and by the time Cayde shuddered to completion and moaned static above him he was so hard it was almost painful, cock straining against his pants. He had to hold him up a little as Cayde’s knees nearly buckled, let him calm for a moment. 

“Fuck.” Cayde breathed above him, heavy with static as Banshee leaned back and wiped his mouth, gazing up at Cayde with bright eyes. “Holy crap. Did I die? Is this heaven? Hang on, hang on I gotta try that…” He tugged at Banshee’s shirt, trying to coax him to his feet, and as soon as Banshee went he pushed him back against the wall and dropped to the floor, imitating what he’d seen Banshee do with the oil.   
“How have  _ you _ never done this before?” He glitched out as Cayde groped him and glanced up with a raised brow ridge.   
“What are you even implying? You think I’m slutty?”   
“You got two boyfriends, a girlfriend and more hookups than I know about.”   
“Fair point. Look. I never thought about it. And even if I had, how many humans or Awoken are gonna want to put their dick in the incredibly handsome bear trap that is my face?” 

“All the ones with sense-!” He cut off and tipped his head back against the wall as Cayde swallowed him down all at once, the side of his mouth squeezing a little harder than his throat. 

“Oh man, it’s really hard not to bite down…”   
“Mmmgh… don’t even fucking joke I will turn you into a rocket launcher…” Banshee grabbed him by the horn and Cayde laughed, sending delicious shivers of pleasure up his back and making him gasp static.    
“I won’t, I won’t. Would never hurt you like that.” He stroked a hand down Banshee’s thigh until he let go, then started bobbing his head up and down to work him over, as deep as he could get, and the tight squeeze of his throat around his cock was incredible, had Banshee inarticulate and venting hard in only a few strokes. He really had been worked up, and it was almost embarrassing how quickly he came.

Cayde withdrew, leaning up on his knees to nuzzle against Banshee’s chest and wrap his arms around his waist. “Man. You’re so good. Literally the only way you could be better is if you could come right on my face.”    
Banshee made a noise like an engine choking and looked down at him, wide-eyed. Did he imagine that? “You’re filthy.”

“You just opened my eyes to a whole new world. And after the three weeks I’ve had I think I deserve a break from not saying shit like that.” 

“... You know what? Yeah, probably.” Banshee petted over his head, tracing the seams of plates and letting him tilt his head back so he could get at the sensitive spots on his neck and jawline.    
“Can I just… stay here for a bit?” Cayde asked quietly, almost hesitant, “I know it’s not the most comfortable place but it’s quiet. I just wanna pretend things are normal for a while.”   
  


Banshee slid down the wall slowly, giving him a chance to shuffle out of the way, and wrapped his arms around him to pull him up against him between his thighs, maneuvering them so that Cayde’s back rested against him. “Yeah. Yeah, course you can.” He tipped his head against Cayde’s shoulder, giving him a squeeze. If he was honest with himself, he just wanted to curl up with Cayde and pretend that none of it was happening, that they were back in the workshop in the Tower surrounded by his mess and his tools, the rest of the world a distant problem for later. He could already barely remember what that workshop looked like. Probably all gone, now.

He hadn’t intended to sleep there, so for a moment when he woke he was horrendously disorientated about where he was, why there was light in his eyes and what the heavy weight against his chest was. Cayde had shifted during the night, tucking his head into Banshee’s shoulder and tangling their legs together, and he was still dead to the world. He must still have been exhausted, and Banshee was sympathetic enough to not to move and rouse him. Exos didn’t sleep heavily, Hunters even less so, and Banshee had gotten pretty good at letting him rest when he managed it.

The peace could only last for so long, though. A silhouette darkened the door to the workshop, and Banshee squinted to try to make it out until Ikora spoke softly. “I thought I might find him here.” She said, and Banshee caught the edge of her smile.    
“Came to see me last night.” He rumbled as quietly as he could, but he still felt a soft thrum as Cayde’s systems started coming online. Damn. “How’re you holding up?”   
“As well as can be expected, I would think.” Ikora sighed, “We have something approaching a plan at least, and our resources are thin but we can manage.”   
“Yeah, but how’re  _ you _ ?” He met her eyes, his own glowing in the dim light, and he saw her shoulders sag a little from their usual proud stance.   
“It’s hard. In all my years as Vanguard we’ve never faced anything like this. I’ve always known it’s possible, but I’ve never had to acknowledge that I could truly die.” She hesitated a little, almost seemed surprised that she’d said that much, but continued anyway now that part of it was out, “The truth is, I’m afraid. And I can’t show that to anyone, because people are looking to us for hope.” She gestured to include herself and Cayde, and vaguely out to wherever Zavala was right then.   
“We’re all afraid, Ikora. Just shows you’re human. And for what it’s worth, I don’t doubt you. Any of you. Even the ones of you who are pretty bad at pretending to be asleep.”

“Damnit, did you have to blow my cover?” Cayde grumbled. Ikora couldn’t help but smile, at least, and Cayde slowly uncurled from around Banshee and stretched. “You’re doing a  _ great _ job, okay? Best Vanguard, hands down. I can’t wait to see you kick ass once we get rid of that damn ship.”

“What ship?”   
“Uh… don’t worry about it, ‘kay? Guardian’s got it handled, and we’ve got  _ her _ handled.” 

Banshee couldn’t help but look skeptical about that, but Cayde glanced to Ikora for backup and she shook her head. Fine then. Vanguard business. She beckoned to Cayde and, despite his best efforts at a pouty face, he sighed and dragged himself out of Banshee’s lap, then helped him up and planted a quick kiss on his forehead before heading out with her.

He’d forgotten about the ship by noon, anyway, after Shaxx and an eager Warlock assistant distracted him with a massive pile of scrap metal he’d gotten the Guardians to scavenge. He threw a few more Guardians his way over the course of the afternoon to help out, and the company was nice. Maybe he could invest in an assistant, if they survived all this.

The next couple of days went by in a whirlwind of activity. Cayde and the rest of the Vanguard were a common sight, speaking with Suraya who coordinated the human side of the forces while they rallied the Guardians. More arrived, flying in from Titan where many of them had gathered. Banshee had never seen so many Guardians look so battered and tired, but the fire in their eyes and the grim set of their jaws belonged to people who were ready to face gods and monsters and charge headlong into Hell, Light or no. It gave him some hope, which was bolstered when the one Lightbearer returned, covered in black Cabal blood and scorched armour but with her head high and the same confrontational set to her shoulders that he’d always seen her with.

Cayde came to find him again that night, whisking him away to a quiet corner around the back of the barn and kissing him with a near-frantic urgency. Nothing was said for a long, breathless moment as they both lost themselves in the sudden passion of it, then Cayde broke away and cupped his face, pressing their foreheads together and staring into his eyes.    
“What’s wrong?” Banshee had to ask, because this wasn’t normal at all. Cayde was passionate, yes, but he didn’t normally kiss like a dying man.

Cayde’s mouth worked for a moment, light flickering, but it took him a couple of tries to speak. “I just… I really love you, you know that?” He said, and Banshee noticed a flicker to his eyes and tilted his head to kiss him again, only briefly.   
“I know. I love you too.”   
“Good. Good. I just… I wanted to let you know that. Tomorrow we’re going to the City. We’re gonna take it back, I know it, but just in case I don’t come back…”   
“I’m going with you.” 

Cayde pulled back, brows drawn down. “No, no way. It’s way too dangerous, you’re-”   
“I’m what, Cayde? A civilian? We both know that’s not true. No Exo is.”   
“Yeah but you… you don’t have…” Cayde fumbled, gesturing vaguely,   
“The Light? Neither do you right now.”   
“You can’t!”   
Banshee’s eyes narrowed. He reached forward with both hands, grabbing Cayde by the cloak and pulling him back in so that when he spoke, his mouth almost brushed Cayde’s and the Hunter couldn’t escape the steely resolve burning in his eyes. “I’m. Going. With you.” 

Neither of them moved for a moment. Cayde broke first, closing his eyes and tipping his head forward so his horn bumped against Banshee’s forehead. “What if something happens to you?” He asked, fuzzy with static.   
“Then it happens. I was there when the City was born, so I’m told. I’m not gonna leave it- or  _ you _ \- to die.” He let go with one hand to cup the back of Cayde’s head, turning the hold from confrontational to tender. “Besides, I won’t be the only one who’s not a Guardian. You couldn’t keep Suraya away from this if you tied her to something.”

“You’re not wrong. She said as much already.” Cayde sighed, “Alright. Just… promise you’ll be careful, yeah?”   
“As careful as you are.”    
“Hey. Now I’m really worried.”

“Then you’d better not do anything stupid, huh?” Banshee drew him back in, let the kiss linger slow and tender. He’d been dreading this, and he was keenly aware that this could be the last time they got to do this. He didn’t want this to be an argument, not when either of them could die tomorrow. Cayde seemed to agree, and they ended up sleeping wrapped up in each other’s arms under Cayde’s cloak.

The plan seemed pretty simple. They were the distraction, simply put, to keep the Red Legion distracted while the last Lightbearer made her way up to their flagship currently caging the Traveller, via some Vex tech that Cayde had acquired during his time away. Or, as one Hunter in the jumpship they’d crammed into put it while checking over an alarming array of hand cannons, their job was to ‘kill as many bastards as you can and try not to die.’ His clanmates seemed to approve of the sentiment. The lightless humans they’d been grouped up with looked less optimistic. They were Suraya’s people, all tough and ready, but they were still only human, and Banshee just quietly tried to memorise their faces. Not all of them would make it through today.

There were, it transpired, secret ways in and out of the City that even the Vanguard hadn’t known about, and that was where they made their entrance. Inside the walls was carnage, half the buildings smashed to pieces and fires still burning even now. They split up, filtering through the streets in loose pairs- one Guardian, one lightless- taking out odd patrolling Legionaries as quietly as they could. Banshee’s partner was a tall Awoken Titan who told him in a whisper that she’d always been a huge fan of his work, before using a piece of said work to effortlessly blast a Cabal head clean off. Had he been a straighter man, it might have been very appealing.

They made it a reasonable distance into the City before their luck ran out. The howl of a Warbeast made Banshee jump and he spun around to see a pack of them galloping towards them. His rifle came up on automatic and the part of him that knew how to be afraid seemed to shut down, replaced with trajectory calculations and a certainty that only ever came with handling weapons. The beasts fell but their masters weren’t far behind, a shout going up in their alien language that would surely draw more. The Titan swore and readied herself, but before she could act several shots rang out from behind them and half the Legionaries went down, felled by sniper fire and one out of place arrow. Banshee shot an appreciative glance back and found some of the humans they’d brought with them and Shaxx’s Warlock friend, who threw a cheerful salute before darting up some steps to find a higher vantage point for their bow. 

They plowed onwards, rapidly diverting when they heard an explosion go off somewhere nearby. Banshee hoped it wasn’t Cayde getting into trouble, and he still wasn’t sure when he saw someone in a cloak go swinging by on some kind of grappling hook before disappearing over a wall. Hunters, honestly. Another team dashed past, a Warlock with an auto-rifle riding on a Titan’s shoulders and carving them a path as a bunch of Legionaries tried to get in the way, only for the survivors to be picked off by the humans in hot pursuit. 

Banshee wasn’t quite sure when he got shot, only that at some point he started feeling warm and had to slow down a little, putting his hand to his chest to feel a rattle of fan and a slick ooze of black fluid leaking from one of his vents. “Shit.” He growled, and did his best to press on. His pain receptors were useless, too flooded with battle data to function, and he just had to hope nothing burned out before he had a chance to rest. His new Titan friend was breathing hard inside her helmet, her armour scorched and one pauldron dented in from several stray shots. They exchanged a quick glance and she nodded in unspoken understanding, dragging him into a doorway to avoid another group of Cabal who had just rounded the corner.    
“How bad?”   
“Don’t know. Doesn’t matter. Gotta see this through. No getting outta here now ‘til it’s done.”

He shut off the lights in his eyes for a moment as the heavy tramp of Cabal feet approached them, hoping they might pass by without seeing them. The Titan readied her weapon, trying to put herself between him and the enemy as the steps got louder and louder. There were a lot of them. Too many.

An explosion ripped through the sky from the direction of the Traveller, lighting the dark and distracting the Legionaries for several seconds. The Titan took her chance, pulling a grenade launcher and hurling a volley right into their midst before they could notice her presence. The explosion echoed the much larger one and the last few standing Legionaries fell under Banshee's fire and he and the Titan turned and ran before it could draw attention. 

"That was from the flagship! That Guardian must have gotten in!" She sounded delighted, but Banshee could only nod. That must have meant Cayde has succeeded in placing the teleporter. He only hoped that he'd managed to survive doing so. 

Another explosion came from the flagship a couple of minutes later, blinding and powerful enough to make the ground shake. Banshee staggered and looked up, squinting and trying to blink the afterimage from his vision, only to have to dive away as a gargantuan foot crashed down within mere metres of him. The roar of sound that followed was deafening and he barely recognised it as a voice, speaking, beseeching, then screaming out in fury and fear as light blinded Banshee once more. It felt like the end of the world, and all he could do was curl up and try to protect his sensors and wait for it to be over.

It took a long time for everything to boot back up in the minutes that followed. His vision came back slowly, staticky and glitch around the edges and strange feedback dominating his hearing. He uncurled slowly, looking up at where the enormous figure had been. Nothing. Only a crushed plane of rubble where its foot had fallen, bigger than Banshee wanted to comprehend. 

A crash cut through the tinnitus and startled him to his feet and he looked up to see a second piece fall from the cage that had held the Traveller and thunder to the ground. The great orb itself seemed to be… glowing? He'd never seen it do that before, for all that everyone spoke of its Light. He turned at the sound of a smaller crash, saw the Titan pull herself out of the rubble with her Ghost hovering anxiously around her. "What happened?" He asked as she stared down at her hands in wonder. Lightning crackled between her fingers and she clenched her fists, and Banshee could almost feel the grin coming from her. 

"We've won. The Traveller is free!" She cheered, then scooped him up in a rush and spun him around in delight. He let her, a little stunned, and from that vantage point he watched others emerge from hiding spots, still armed and wary but cautiously optimistic. 

"Yeah… yeah, damn, I think we did…" he said as she set him down. The Titan paused, tilting her head to listen to something before nodding.

"Commander Zavala says to gather at the base of the Tower. Think you can make it or do you need a lift?"

"I can manage. I'm not some fragile maiden that needs a big strong Titan to carry him around." He grumbled. His fan was rattling a little from the injury, but he suspected that as long as he went slow and careful he'd manage. He didn't feel overheated just yet at least. She chuckled quietly and gestured for him to follow.

He kept an eye out as they picked their way through the shattered City, other Guardians and civilians joining them as they went until they had a small group, the civilians looking exhausted but grinning and the Guardians exuberant as they showed off their returned powers to each other, Hunters leaping twenty feet into the air and literally bouncing off the walls while a Warlock wove balls of Light and tossed them to a Titan who juggled them until they dissipated into the air. At any other time Banshee would have found it entertaining, but there was only one Guardian he wanted to see right now and it was just a distraction. 

The burned shell of the Tower loomed up before them, the wall either side pockmarked and scarred but still standing, and Banshee's fan shut down for a moment when he spotted Zavala and Ikora keeping watch from a pile of rubble, but no Cayde. He knew he shouldn't, but he broke into a run straight past the Guardians accompanying him and out into the open ground before them, where he had to slow as a nasty clunk signified a proper shutdown of the damaged fan. Where was he?

A flash of blue caught his attention and he noticed the third figure sitting on the rubble pile, holding out an arm and grumbling while his Ghost knit the lower half of it back together with Light. Tucked under the other arm was a brown hen, of all things "Cayde…"

Cayde looked up, his eyes wide, and made to rise "Banshee? Fuck! Sundance, c'mon, faster, I gotta-" he was cut off abruptly when his Ghost bonked herself against his horn.

" _ You stay right the fuck there while I finish unless you want your hand on backwards! It could have been done half an hour ago if you hadn’t run off looking for that damn chicken." _

"Look, Colonel is a war hero, I wasn’t just gonna leave her out there." Cayde groaned and made puppy eyes at Banshee, and Banshee laughed as much in relief as actual amusement before limping over and flopping down next to him. "You're okay. You're okay, thank fuck you're okay…" Cayde leaned over and tried to juggle the chicken so he could hold both of them, and Banshee didn't need any more prompting to take her and cuddle into him even though they were right there in front of everyone, the rest of the Vanguard standing over them. Cayde felt like a furnace against him, his Light burning strong once more.

"What happened?" Banshee asked, looking up at the rapidly reforming limb. 

"Turns out those Gladiator fuckers have really big knives, who woulda thought?" Cayde said with a tilt of his head and a flare of light from his mouth that looked so much like a grin. "Threw me off my groove a bit but look! I'm fine- wait." He looked down, saw the dark stain on Banshee's shirt. "What happened to  _ you?  _ You're leaking, you're warm… that's bad. Are you dying and not telling me?!"

_ "Cayde! Stay still!" _

"Steady, steady. Think I got shot. Pretty sure it's just a fan, easy enough to fix, I'll be fine." 

Cayde relaxed a little, letting Sundance finish healing him before tucking herself into his hood and nuzzling against his face. "Good. All my favourite robots safe and sound." Cayde sighed. "It’s over."

"Not yet." Zavala's voice came from above their heads and Banshee forced himself to let go of Cayde long enough to look up into the Commander's glowing eyes. "The threat is gone for now, but we have so much rebuilding to do. It will take years to recover. But at least for now we have the safety to do so."

“C’mon, Zavala. Serious shit can start up again tomorrow but tonight? We gotta celebrate.” Sundance finished his hand off and he immediately used it to gesture expansively. “People gave their lives for this and I vote to honour them properly with whatever we can find that looks like booze and some traditional ballads. Chumbawumba, anyone?”

Zavala didn’t dignify that with a response, and Banshee huffed a quiet laugh to make Cayde feel better when he visibly deflated.

Quite a crowd had gathered, and clearly Zavala intended to address them. “I’d better get out of your way.” Banshee said quietly as he slid down the rubble a little way, to a disgruntled noise from Cayde.    
“Fine. Gotta do my job I  _ guess _ . Take care of my chicken?”   
“Of course.” He got himself out of the way, taking the softly-clucking bird with him and holding her close to his chest in lieu of Cayde’s warmth. 

Honestly, he didn’t remember much of Zavala’s speech, but he was sure it had been very inspiring. Lots of things about the strength of the Wall and how they had all played their part in the survival of humanity and the bright future that they would rebuild together, Guardian and civilian alike. It was afterwards, when the formalities were over and people dispersed to find places to hole up for the night and search for survivors and clear some space for operations, that he remembered. Cayde came and found him immediately, slinging an arm around his shoulders and steering him off to where a soot-smeared Amanda had landed her ship and handing him off to her before he could argue that he was fine and should be helping look for injured. He directed said complaint to Amanda instead, who just shook her head, turned off his pain receptors and opened up the side of his chest to fix the fan.   
“You never quit, do you? Sooner this is sorted out the sooner you can get back out there.”   
“Can’t afford to. If I think about it too hard it’s gonna break me.”

“Well, you’re gonna need a new shirt, but I think I’ve got it.” There was a weird creaking noise as she bent something back into shape, then closed up the plating again and patted his shoulder. “How’s it feel?”   
He spun up his fans and let the air circulate a little, cooling him and clearing his head. He hadn’t even realised he’d been running on such a mental fog. 

“Good. Thanks.”   
“Go on then, go be a hero if you gotta. Show those Guardians how it’s done.” She slapped him on the ass as he went to leave and made him jump, and he had to chuckle when he watched her grimace and shake out her hand. 

There was a lot of City to search. Someone had had the bright idea of giving everyone homing beacons before they left, and that made it easier to track people down and pull them out of rubble or retrieve them from the interiors of buildings. Most of those he found were alive. Those that weren’t he memorised as best he could, and from one he gathered a despondent, lost-looking Ghost who’s Guardian’s luck had run out precious minutes too soon. He didn’t know what to do with it, really, but when he returned to their impromptu field base a few hours later with it gently cradled in his hands it was whisked away by several other Ghosts that clustered around in support. 

Cayde caught up with him as he watched them go, his own Ghost joining the pile and Cayde’s arm ending up around Banshee’s shoulders. "Find anyone?"

"More than I hoped, less than I like."

“It’s better than it could have been. One of my Hunters found booze; seems like the World’s End barely got hit and all the bottles are intact. That’s cause for celebration all on its own.” He tipped his head against Banshee’s gently, and he signed and put an arm around Cayde’s waist in return. He’d done his part. He could rest. He had official Vanguard permission and everything.

There was a party, of sorts. Mostly it consisted of exhausted Guardians and civilians sitting around in the square they’d cleared, passing bottles back and forth and swapping stories as someone built a bonfire and lit it. A particularly exuberant Warlock with the white-shelled Ghost of a kinderguardian did manage to start a small dance-off to the side, as always seemed to happen when Guardians gathered in any numbers. Banshee always wondered why they did it, but he supposed they needed to relieve stress somehow. The Vanguard gathered on a pile of rubble, talking quietly amongst themselves, and Banshee settled by Cayde’s side on a lower chunk of masonry where he could lean his head against the Hunter’s leg and people-watch once he had a couple of drinks in him.

He suspected he was the only one who noticed the Guardian of the hour slink in. She was huge, but she moved like someone who didn’t want to be noticed and it seemed to work for her, her battered and filthy armour blending right in as she took a seat somewhere near the edge of the firelight and took the next bottle that came her way. She didn’t speak to anyone, and when Banshee met her eyes for a moment she narrowed them at him and he took it to mean that she didn’t want to, which was just fine. He got it, not wanting to be the centre of attention, but he’d have to make sure she got something nice once he had his workshop back. He had some designs that needed testing out, for one thing.

The day faded to night and people drifted off, finding places to hole up and sleep before the long trip back to the Farm with good news. Cayde had scooted closer and closer to Ikora as the party wore on, and by the time they gave up on it he’d flopped and laid his head in her lap, his legs sprawled across Banshee’s while Zavala pretended very hard that he wasn’t struggling to keep his eyes open on her other side. It was Ikora that decided to send them all to bed, by nudging Cayde until he stood and giving Zavala a gentle shake to rouse him. “I found a good spot near the Tower’s base, it should be safe for all of us.” She said, and Banshee dragged himself up as Cayde got off of him. He couldn’t say he blamed them for wanting to stick together after today, but whatever he had instead of a heart still sank a little to see them together. He was with Cayde, but he’d always have to share. He supposed he could find his own spot easily enough, wasn’t like Exos got tired anyway.

  
Cayde glanced over as the group moved off frowning. “Not coming with, Banshee?” he asked, sounding more wounded than Banshee had expected.   
“I… didn’t wanna intrude.”   
“Bullshit. C’mon.” Cayde reached out and took his hand, pulling him along as Ikora paused to smile at him.   
“You’re more than welcome.” She assured him, patting his shoulder as Cayde brought him level with her, and Zavala nodded his agreement. He relaxed, nodded back, and Cayde headbutted his shoulder as they set off to bunk down in an abandoned but relatively intact building in the shadow of the wall.   
  
For a while, they weren’t Vanguard and Gunsmith, just four people who’d had a very long day and needed some well-deserved rest. It was still strange to see Zavala out of his armour, Ikora shed her robes, but the familiarity of Cayde made up for it and it was easy to fall in with them, Banshee on one end pressed up against Cayde’s back while he and Zavala bracketed Ikora’s smaller form. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it felt safe and, for the first time in what felt like a long time, it felt like everything would be alright.   



End file.
